


Discreetly

by Mottled_System



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Abusive Relationships, Cousin Incest, Creampie, Debauchery, Dirty Talk, Dirty Threats, Drinking, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Incest, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marijuana, Masturbation, Playboy Sirius Black, Punk Sirius Black, Sex, Smoking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottled_System/pseuds/Mottled_System
Summary: Narcissa is desperate for Sirius to stop publically tarnishing the Black name- and is willing to do anything to get him be more discreet about his unsavory life choices, even if it involved being a bit unsavory with him.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Sirius Black/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Kudos: 35





	1. Consider It

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Discreetly (Being Rewritten)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324442) by [Mottled_System](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottled_System/pseuds/Mottled_System). 



Narcissa Black sat perfectly still, back arched properly, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded in front of her and resting on her beautiful dalbergia bartop. She was tense, her taupe brow furrowed, silver eyes cold as ice, her round painted lips pursed softly, chin held high, peering straight ahead. Her long, smooth, golden hair was draped over her thin shoulders, keeping the back of her neck warm despite the chill in the room. She wore a yellow frilly blouse tucked into a long, high waisted plaid skirt, her feet sporting brown mary janes. She glanced down at her hands, gently rubbing the long, french-manicured thumb into the crook of the knuckle of her index finger.

“Mis-” started the squeaky voice of a House Elf, one that was quickly interrupted.

“Hello, Cissa,” A familiar, suspicious voice greeted her tentatively. He sounded amused, confused, and far too arrogant. The woman spun on her stool, putting her elbow on the bartop and leaning back, glaring daggers as she studied him, nose turning up and lip curling in distaste.

He’d grown quite a bit since last they’d seen each other, though to be honest, Narcissa had only seen him a handful of times throughout their lives. She supposed he’d probably been at the many house parties and holiday gatherings thrown by her aunt, his mother, but she couldn’t really recall him much. The last she remembered seeing his face- though it did look quite a bit like everyone else in their, ahem, close family- was… Ten, ish, years ago? They weren’t close enough in age to have gone to Hogwarts together, were they? How old was he, exactly? Anyway… He stood probably two meters tall, with shoulder-length, wavy black hair framing his too-handsome face. As was commonplace in the Black family, he was as pale as a person could be, with shining silver eyes, and an angelic, unbelievably attractive face. His good looks, however, were seriously down played by his presentation; he wore a loose, worn shirt boasting what Narcissa could only assume was some Muggle punk band underneath an old, thick leather jacket and tucked into horribly torn jeans. Large boots sat on his feet and his wrists were wrapped with studded leather bands, his fingers donning several rings. When he tipped his head and exhaled harshly through his nose, she looked up to notice that not only were his ears pierced, but his nose was, as well, and she nearly gagged. He looked ridiculous.

“Sirius,” she said, tongue dripping with a sour tone. He seemed a bit less amused with her now that she’d looked at him so.

“Well, on with it then, dearest cousin,” He sneered out in a mocking tone. “I must admit, I was quite surprised to be invited here, and I am more than curious to know what someone such as yourself would want with  _ me _ .” Sirius took a few steps closer, his wand slipping into his hand from his jacket sleeve. Narcissa tensed, glaring up at him, concern filling her. “After all, I’m sure you know I’m not too friendly with Death Eaters and I hope you would be smart enough to know I won’t make an exception just for family,” Sirius was all too close to Narcissa now, leering down at her. She stood, nose to nose with him, only a handful of centimeters shorter than him in her heels. She- quite offended and moderately worried- slipped her left sleeve up, revealing an arm without a Dark Mark.

“Quite a bad sign that the Order doesn’t even know who is or is not a Death Eater,” She said sternly, all too aware of her close affiliation with the group via her fiance, Lucius Malfoy. Sirius glared at her, studying her face closely. Narcissa hoped dearly he did not know Legilimens.

“What do you want, Narcissa?” Sirius said in a surprisingly soft tone, his voice deep and soothing. She felt a shiver shoot up her spine.

“Word has it you’ve been doing a lot of… Unsavory things.” Narcissa said. “And it’s beginning to reflect badly on the family.”

Sirius gave a dark laugh, looking away before back into her eyes, shifting, his shoulder almost brushing against her. “The family? I’m not a part of your family anymore. Mother disowned me.”

“Do you truly think people care? Your actions reflect badly because you’re still tied to us by blood- by lineage. You will never really be seperate from this family, and everyone but your delusional mother- and, apparently, you- know that. Hell, you’re not even written out of her will.” Sirius closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose, bathing her jaw in hot breath. He smelled like whiskey.

“I do what I want. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, much less your meaningless family,” Sirius said sardonically.

“No one cares what you do, Sirius,” Narcissa replied, tiring of this conversation. “All I ask is that you be a bit more-  _ discreet _ about it. Have your fun doing whatever filthy things it is that you do- just don’t let everyone and their brother know about it. You’ll notice it will benefit you quite a bit, as well, I presume.”

“My reputation helps me a lot as it is, Cissa,” Sirius said. “You’re wasting your time.” He turned, but she grabbed his elbow. He glared at her over his shoulder.

“What is that I can offer you, Sirius? Money?”

Sirius gave a cruel laugh, turning and closing in on Narcissa so fast she stumbled back, her knees hitting the stool. He sneered down at her. “I don’t need your damned money.” He growled. Narcissa tensed, breathing a bit more heavily. He wouldn’t lay a hand on her, she was certain, but it was still… Disconcerting.

“Then what is it, Sirius? What do you want?”

“You don’t have anything that I want,” Sirius scoffed, turning once more. Again, Narcissa gently put a hand on him.

“Please, Sirius,” Narcissa whispered. Agitated, Sirius sighed, pausing but not even deigning to glance at her. “This family and it’s reputation mean the world to me. I know you don’t give a damn about any of us- and, maybe, you’ve been given good reason- but it’s different for me, and for Regulus, and hopefully for our families. We haven’t done anything to you. Please.”

Sirius tensed, then began walking again. Desperate, she rushed in front of him, and he tilted his head back, anger apparent on his face. She put her hand under his thick coat to touch his warm chest, peering up at him, concern on her face, and after a moment he looked at her, his eyes intense.

“Please,” she whispered. “Consider it.”

He didn’t reply, but rolled his eyes, looking away and stepping forward. She stepped back and gripped his shirt, earning herself another glare in return. “Please tell me you’ll at least consider it.”

With an agitated sigh and another roll of his eyes, he shrugged. “Whatever, fine. Now let me go.” She took a step to the side and watched him walk from the off-to-the side breakfast nook in her kitchen, stalking with heavy boots out the archway with Konky the House Elf scurrying after him to see him out.


	2. To Conquer Propriety

Narcissa had had little faith that Sirius would at all listen to her, but  _ this _ ? She was downright offended, and she supposed that that had been the point.

Because, of course, it would take either fantastic stupidity or malicious intent to be caught like this. And, if Narcissa was certain of one thing when it came to Sirius Black, it was that he was full of the latter and entirely absent of the former.

Shagging a Muggle prostitute on his motorbike in the middle of London, for all Muggles and Wizards to see. It was all anyone could talk about. A moving picture was splayed on the covers of both The Daily Prophet and Witches Weekly, depicting Sirius Black, former heir of the Black family, going down on a Muggle woman right outside of the Leaky Cauldron- of course, it was much more, ahem, explicit of a picture on the magazine than it was on the Prophet.

Narcissa couldn’t give a damn what he did, or with whom. It looked like both of them were quite enjoying the experience, and Narcissa wasn’t one to give a damn what others did with their lives as long as it didn’t interfere with hers. And, of course, had they done this discreetly, in private, it wouldn’t affect her at all. She could happily go along ignoring him.

But it did affect her, and the whispers they all had, the rude questions pointed at her as if she had any say in what he did. Of course, the blame would probably best lie with the whisperers, but it was much easier to stop one person than an entire society.

It wasn’t that he was just selfish. He could do whatever he wanted, take whatever he wanted, discreetly, and benefit no less. It was that he was  _ spiteful _ . He lost absolutely nothing by pulling this lewd stunt- but Narcissa and Regulus, Bella and Andy, they did. And Sirius would rather pointedly prove that he didn’t care about them than take the time to escort the woman to his home.

And what was Narcissa to do? Ask him again? He probably wouldn’t even answer the invitation this time. But what other option did she have? Let him tarnish their name?  _ That _ wasn’t an option at all.

~

Narcissa was more than out of place walking down Knockturn Alley. She’d worn her least conspicuous outfit, but truthfully, a young wealthy woman in a form fitting black cloak, large black sunglasses, and a large, fancy black witch’s cap was quite out of place in the dingy, threatening alley way.

She strutted straight up to Markus Scarr’s Indelible Tattoos, where she’d found he worked, and walked into it, anxiety flooding the woman. The floors were blackened, charred wood, the walls grey concrete, the buzzing sound of a tattoo machine sounded. For some reason, this shop preferred the painful method of stabbing ink into its patrons’ skin rather than the pain-free spell most wizards and witches preferred. From her understanding, which admittedly was minimal, through magic they could still be enchanted to move, if one wanted.

A large bald man with bulging muscles stood behind a desk and glared at her, his arms baring naked females that danced, lots of snakes and skulls and die and other miscellaneous things. “Can oi ‘elp yew?” he asked, very much sounding as if he did not wish to help her.

She strutted up to the desk, standing upright as usual. “I’m here for one Mr. Sirius Black,” she said softly, removing her glasses so as to see him better.

“D’you ‘ave an appoi’mn?” He said, words barely understandable through his thick accent and slow words.

“No, sir,” Narcissa said, pushing fist-sized sack full of galleons to him. “But it’s a bit of a family matter that’s rather important.”

The man pulled the sack towards him, opening it and peeking in, debating. He pocketed it and walked around the corner, silently leading her to a backroom.

Sirius lounged in a tattoo chair suckling on a joint, opening his eyes to glare at Narcissa as the bald man left, shutting the door behind him.

“The fuck d’you want?” he asked, voice a bit slurred. He pulled the joint away to lift his other hand, holding a bottle of Crown Royal and chugging quite a bit of it.

“There has to be something I can do to get you to act like a civil human being in public.”

“No, not really, love,” Sirius replied, sounding almost chipper.

She took a step forward, eyes wide open with fury, voice low and deep with rage. “Seriously, Sirius? Shagging a whore in public? Surely you can do much better-”

“Like what?” Sirius demanded, bolting to his feet, getting in her face. He wasn’t angry, but his intense eyes were still very intimidating. She stood her ground. “Like you and all the other stuck-up cunts in our family, your knickers all bunched up your twats, noses straight up to the sky, whining about image and propriety and all that fucking garbage?” He leaned back and studied her as her jaw worked, and she felt the fury burning in her eyes. Seemingly pleased with that reaction, he continued. “You’re as much of a slag as she was, just a lot more expensive and  _ way _ harder to tolerate.”

Blood rushed to her face, mortified, as she shook, enraged. Her nose twitched and, after a long moment of pure hatred danced in her chest, she smacked him so hard on the face they both wavered where they stood, the sound resonating through the room. He audibly gasped, touching his already reddened face before looking at her, incredulous, furious. Shocked, she tensed, nostrils flaring, her anger quenched a bit but pure regret flooding her. She should  _ not _ have done that.

“Did you just hit me?” He asked, coming back to glare down at her from above, his voice sounding like he truly couldn’t believe it. She quirked her brow. “Did you seriously just  _ fucking _ hit me?” He demanded, spittle hitting her chin. She winced slightly.

“Yes.” Narcissa replied. “I won’t let you talk to me that way.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Sirius incredulous and furious, Narcissa mildly frightened and quite unsure. “If you ever,” Sirius whispered. “Ever, lay a hand on me again,” his voice was deep, and cold, and shaky. Narcissa swallowed. “I will break your fucking hand,” he said softly, gripping the hand that hit him and holding it uncomfortably hard in his hand. Narcissa swallowed, then nodded, looking at his large, veiny hand holding her small, delicate one.

“Now get out, and never speak to me again,” he whispered. She looked up at him, his face so close to hers, and so intensely furious.

“No,” she said softly, voice breaking. He tilted his head the other way and leaned in even closer. He smelled almost disgustingly of whiskey and weed.

“Get out!” He roared into her ear, and she jumped before squeezing her eyes shut.

“No,” she said, frightened, near tears. He pulled back.

He grabbed her chin, gently but sternly, and Narcissa whimpered in fear. She grabbed his hand and looked up at him.

“Why the fuck do you care so fucking much?” he demanded, not so angry now. Narcissa swallowed, opening her mouth to talk, only shaky breath escaping her lips. She was terrified. “Why are so scared?”

Her eyebrows raised, thinking, but she only sputtered softly as a tear fell out of her eyes. He seemed unsure what to do as she started freely crying, horrifying her, but then he tentatively moved his palm to her cheek, stroking her tears away with his thumb. She leaning into his hand, feeling so very odd, praying that Lucius would never find out about this. Of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

She eventually stopped crying and earnestly pulled away, wiping away her own tears, desperately trying to remove the ruined eyeliner from her face.

“Please, Sirius,” she pled again, voice stuffy. He sighed, tense.

“Why are you crying? Why are you afraid?” He insisted. She shrugged. “ _ You _ hit  _ me _ , not the other way around.”

“I know,” Narcissa said. She looked away. He touched her chin.

“Come to my flat tonight,” Sirius said. “My next client will be here soon.”

Narcissa nodded, then composed herself, pulling on her glasses to hide her ruined makeup and stalked out, back straight, head held high, cheeks burning red.

~

An owl arrived with his address printed clearly on it, in London. It stated that he did not have a fireplace, so Narcissa was quite annoyed that she’d returned to her home in Wiltshire, but she supposed that she could travel somewhere else with a fireplace and then to Sirius’ house, which she did- she went to the Leaky Cauldron, where she figured she could grab a drink before catching the Knight bus.

She sat at the bar, lip curled slightly, hoping it was cleaned. Truth be told, this place certainly wasn’t somewhere she frequented… Or visited, ever. However, it made it much easier to get to Sirius’ house in the Muggle part of London, being a crossroads between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. As she sipped the cheap champagne she’d ordered, however, she wondered if it was worth it.

She took a cursory glance around, and she nearly laughed at what she saw- Sirius, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew, drunk off their arses, devouring- something- that they had ordered. Sirius had seen her, too.

“Pardon me, darling,” Narcissa said quietly to the bartender, who smiled her way, leaning forward to hear her better over the sounds of the bar.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Is it possible I could have a room for the night?” She cooed brightly.

“Of course ma’am,” He said brightly, and she paid for it and her drink, delighted to not have to go to Sirius’ flat. She strutted up the stairs, making sure to discreetly make eye contact with Sirius, who sipped his drink, eying her. She hoped he got the message.

Lo and behold, he did, as not twenty minutes later, Sirius pushed open the door to see Narcissa sprawled gracefully on the bed, hair let down and jacket off, puffing a long, thin cigarette. He closed the door gently behind him, then walked forward and sat next to her legs, staring down at her nylon-wrapped shins, one atop the other.

“I’ll admit I’m quite surprised to learn what  _ mutually-beneficial _ solution you might have to our predicament,” She said after a moment of silence. 

He studied her as she lay there on the bed- her crimson heels, dark nylons, patterned skirt and red sweater. His eyes lingered on the faint imprint of her small breasts before finally looking her in the eye. He kicked off his boots and muttered a sobering spell over himself.

“I’ve always had a bit of a- rebellious side,” Sirius said. “The need to- push boundaries, to conquer propriety and… Make it my bitch,” he eyed her again and she tensed, unsure of his exact meaning but feeling rather uncomfortable nonetheless. She waited for him to continue. “I’m going to need something to scratch that particular itch in order to be more-  _ discreet _ .” His voice was something beyond mocking as he spat the last word.

“What exactly-” she began, only for him to drag her closer by the ankle. She interrupted herself with a quiet squeal. “Pardon-!”

Sirius’ mouth crashed against hers and her eyes widened as his hands began to push her shirt up. She pulled back and shoved him away, and much to her shock, he let her, standing in front of her and eyeing her. There was a glint in his eyes that told her he had expected her to do that, was planning on it, so he could rub it in her face that he’d given her an option and she’d denied it. Fury flooded her.

“How old are you?” she gasped. He had to be out of Hogwarts, certainly?

“Nineteen,” he said. Only four years younger than her. She studied his holy shirt and his worn jeans and his wild hair and his taunting eyes.

She was a virgin, of course, as an unmarried woman. She had been kissed exactly three times, all without passion, all from her insipid fiance. She’d never had much interest in intimacy or sex, but all the time she had imagined it, it had been with Lucius- passionless, insipid sex, only a handful of times throughout her life, for consummation and marriage. Narcissa had no doubt it would be nothing like that with Sirius, though she had no means by which to deduce what it might actually be like. “Tell me exactly and plainly what it is you’re expecting.”

Sirius quirked a brow, a bit of what might be intrigue entering his eyes, as if her possible acceptance of the arrangement was not only surprising and strange but welcome. She supposed he’d be a fool to offer an agreement to which he did not want a part of, even if he was expecting her to deny it. He yanked her up by her sweater, making her gasp, and sunk down into a crouch in front of her. She stared defiantly into his intense eyes, eyes that glimmered with a challenge. “I’m going to rip those fancy clothes off of you and fuck you until you cream yourself on my cock. Everytime I’m in the mood for- a bit of  _ debauchery _ \- you will make yourself available or I will make a scene.”

She closed her eyes and lay back on the bed, intending for him to take this as consent, but he seemingly did not, giving her the unfortunate ability to consider this scenario before speaking. Losing her virginity before marriage- would Lucius notice? Would he forgive her? Would he  _ disgrace _ her? And… Making herself available, for Sirius’  _ debauchery _ . Narcissa shuddered in anticipation and fear. What if he wanted something she was unwilling to give?

If she said yes, she really was a slag.

“Well?” he asked after a long moment.

“I’m considering,” she breathed.

“Well, consider faster,” he said, sounding annoyed and disinterested. She didn’t open her eyes to look at him. “If you say no, I’ve got to find another bird to shag.” His voice was dark, holding the implication that he would go above and beyond the shame he had last time. Jaw tense, she glared at his bored expression.

“Have you truly no shame, Sirius?”

He leaned forward almost threateningly, and much to her surprise, a brilliant grin lit up his too-handsome face. “No, love. Absolutely none.”

She breathed angrily and stared at him. “Two conditions.”

He quirked a brow. “You’re in no position to be adding conditions.”

“One- you don’t intend to try and offer absolutely ridiculous scenarios with the main intent of me saying no so you can spite me. That isn’t fair.”

He smirked. “No traps, fine. What kind of  _ scoundrel _ do you take me for, dearest cousin?”

Narcissa scoffed. “Two- I… I’m a virgin.” Narcissa raised her chin almost defiantly, and he quirked a brow at her again. “You’ll be good to me, make it good for me, at least the first time.”

Sirius gave a dark laugh. “Oh, Cissa,” he said, sounding downright evil, his voice quiet and intimate and-  _ hungry _ . “I will make it good for you each and every time, no matter how vile or degrading what we do is. I’m going to make you  _ love _ it.”

Narcissa’s mouth fell open slightly and she shuddered, horrified at his words, horrified at faint prickling in her belly. “I-”

Sirius leaned in and his breath tickled her ear. “I’m going to make you my whore, and you’re going to beg for me to defile you-  _ discreetly _ .”

“Be- sweet to me, the first time,” Narcissa said almost breathlessly, head spinning. “And I will agree to this- arrangement.”


	3. How Dare

Sirius stood then and grabbed her legs, pulling them up and forcing her to lay on the bed once more. He slowly removed her heels, dropping them by the bedside, looking at her with an infuriatingly taunting expression. He rubbed one foot gently in his hands for a moment, the nylons she wore tickling her skin, before moving onto the other. He stroked up her shins to her knees, pushing her skirt up her thighs and over her hips to her waist, exposing her red lace panties beneath the dark nylons. Sirius pushed her shirt up slowly, kissing up her frail figure, leaving a blossom of sensitive joy wherever he touched, lips trailing up the middle of her chest as he pulled the sweater gently off her head. He began to kiss and suckle on her throat and she sighed wistfully into the air, surprised by how nice that felt.

He leaned back and bent her leg up to leave a trail of kisses from her ankle to her upper thigh. He met her eye and tore her nylons open and she gasped loudly in shock, then kissed her groin over her underwear. Her mouth was agape and her face was hot, her core throbbing with the anticipation of his mouth. He then slipped two large, warm fingers straight inside of her, barely disturbing her panties in the process. She watched him with heavy lids as she cooed, having to consciously stop herself from bucking desperately into his hand as he stretched her- he was knuckle deep inside of her. His lips found hers once more and they drank from each other, his thumb kneading her clitoris as two of his fingers fucked her, growling into her mouth. She felt drunk and dead and  _ oh, so alive _ by the time he pulled away, leaving her to whine in protest as he also removed his fingers. She panted as he yanked off his own trousers and pants- revealing his large, thick, completely erect member- before pulling off her panties and undoing her bra. Her hard nipples met the cool air before being warmed by his chest as he kissed her once more. She bit his lip and mewled into him, stomach burning with desire as she wrapped her legs around him, still mostly covered by nylons, and ground her core up against his hot, twitching cock.

“Take me,” she whimpered. He grinned arrogantly, pulling back and putting a hot hand on her cheek, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb before she pulled it with her tongue into her mouth, suckling on it. He watched, seemingly pleased, before speaking.

“You’re going to have to ask much nicer than that, dearest cousin,” he said. She closed her eyes.

“Please, Sirius,” she begged, entirely unsure what to say. “Please take me.”

“Take you where?” He teased.

She blushed and whined in response, frustrated, and he chuckled into her cheek. “For someone trying to get what they want- two things they want, actually, which is quite unfair- you’re being awfully spoiled,” he stated, and before she could reply, he pulled back and easily speared into her, and she gasped loudly, breathing heavily as he lay there entirely still, buried to the hilt within her.

“Oh… God…” she managed, full, sore, and so utterly soaked. She pulled him closer and they held onto one another tightly as she adjusted. After a moment, though, he began to jackhammer into her and she breathed hard and fast, biting down on his shoulder so as to not scream out.

He spread her legs and somehow filled her even more, moaning softly and breathing hard, face calm and focused, and so utterly sexy. She continued to try desperately to keep quiet, and pulled his fingers into her mouth to suckle on them, muffling her aroused noises and giving her something to do. He watched her before fingering her mouth. She felt like she was melting.

He fucked her long and hard, until he had to use his entire palm to keep her quiet, thrusting into her, and staring down at her with those sexy eyes. She felt wonderful, earth shattering bursts of pleasure more than a few times, quaking into him and growing more desperate for him after each. After a while, long after the sun had set and the noises from the bar had ceased, he exploded within her, thrusting until so much of his seed poured back out of her. He then pulled out of and collapsed onto her, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. 

He rolled off of her then and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed his jeans, fishing out a cigarette and lighter. She watched him, feeling utterly consumed and tired despite having done little herself but squirm and suckle and moan. Unsure what to do- what was meant to be next- she turned towards him and lay her head on his chest. He eyed her silently as he sucked on his cigarette. She closed her eyes and listened to his breath, his heart, feeling small and warm and strangely content.

~

When Narcissa awoke, she was alone and cold and bare, feeling worn out, sore. She blinked groggily, yawning, grinding her knuckles into her eye and cursing as she got leftover makeup in it, eyes watering for a long time. Annoyed, she blinked hard several times only to see that she was not at home, in her bed, and then it came rushing back to her; she was at the Leaky Cauldron. She’d seen Sirius last night- she’d been with him, been had by him. Her face burned crimson as she frantically pulled her clothes back on, disposed of on the side of the bed, and slipped into her heels. No evidence of Sirius remained, except for the dried remnants of him on her thighs. She had to get home and clean herself, she thought, rushing down the stairs, handing Tom back the key to her room, and hurrying through the fireplace to her house.

Lucius was lounging on the sofa, sipping wine from a glass. He looked at her, surprised and concerned, and she turned even redder.  _ What the hell was he doing here? _

“Cissa, are you alright? What on Earth happened?” Lucius asked, sitting up. She was acutely aware of the ripped nylons sagging on her legs and her unkempt hair and horribly messy eyeliner.

“Muggle thugs,” she bluffed quickly. “But they didn’t do anything to me. I-I got away,” she said, hoping her stammering made her seem more shaken than dishonest.

He sat there, chewing on that, before standing and moving to her, touching her face. Somehow, it felt less personal and less authentic than when Sirius had done it. “Filthy swine, they are,” he said coldly. Narcissa swallowed. He turned, pacing, cursing. “Don’t you know to be careful? What on earth were you doing where they could get you?”

Narcissa said nothing, earning her an exasperated sigh.

“You’re not to go out without me again, do you understand?” He snapped. She looked up at him, silent. “Without me, or Bella, or Roddie. Do. You. Understand?” He demanded, stalking forward. She nodded, jaw tense.

“Yes, Lucius. I understand.” She said softly. “I need to- clean up. If you’ll excuse me.”

He nodded, flicking a wrist to wave her away. She rushed up the staircase and into her room, two white walls and two baby blue walls, the ceiling and final wall decorated with an angelic mural of light sky and white clouds and a glittering sun and pale moon, small chubby angels flying over with with golden scrolls and keys and so many other things. She closed the double doors and sighed outwardly, relieved, sagging onto her bum. How  _ dare _ he, come here into her home, drink  _ her _ wine and dirty  _ her _ glasses without her, and  _ demand _ things of her? She let out a disgruntled noise and buried her nose into her knees, suddenly very aware of her ruined tights and the warm, soft sensation inside of her, remnants of the sex that had ended mere hours before. What time is it? When had they finished?

She pushed herself to her feet and kicked off her shoes, stripping as she walked into her bathroom and turning the water on, sitting on the edge of the bath in her nylons as it filled with steaming hot water. She added bubbles and salts and lit candles with her wand, drawing the blinds, summoning a pretty song that sang in the air. She sunk into the tub, rubbing her still-wrapped thighs. She sunk down until everything but her face was buried in the hot water, closing her eyes and sighing pleasantly.

She could still feel his touch, taste his mouth, hear his voice as he teased her. Her lower abdomen began to dance with heat once more. She saw his face, his expression intense, framed by his silly hair. She reached down and tentatively touched herself like he had touched her, sighing happily once more. Her fingers swirled slowly, then ever faster and faster still, until she came, biting her lip and arching her back. It ached so much more than the last few- her body was worn out on them- but it was a delectable sort of pain, and quite welcome. She lay there for a moment more before finally getting to scrubbing her face clean, then climbing out of the tub and drying off, rubbing her favorite, cherry-scented elixir on her face and donning a bathrobe, moving to her bed to lounge as the elixir worked its magic. She was nearly asleep when she heard a rapping on her door. After a tense moment, she decided to ignore it, pretending to be asleep. Several moments later, the door opened, and it took all her will not to grow tense with agitation. How dare he come into her room without permission!

“Cissa?” Lucius’ grating voice rang out. She ignored him, breathing softly, deeply. He sighed and closed the door, though which side of it he was on, she knew not. When she heard footsteps walking away, however, she sighed and turned on her side, away from the door, a rich air of dissatisfaction filling the room. She reluctantly stood to wash off the elixir so as to possibly go to sleep, exhausted after last night.


End file.
